Liam's Birth Story
I actually sat down and finished Liam's birth story. It is pretty long but I don't want to forget all the little details. Enjoy. :)
All through out my pregnancy I was terrified that I would go into labor, shrug it off as Braxton Hicks, and not make it to the hospital (an hour from our house) in time to not have the baby at home or in the car. So I had been praying that my water would break so that I would have a sure sign that it was time to go to the hospital.
At 5:30 am on January 4th, 2014, my giant prego self woke up for the millionth time that night thinking "yay, I have to pee… again." Did my awkward roll out of bed and waddled into the bathroom. Just as I sat down my water broke. And I mean it broke. I was like, "wow, this is the world's longest pee." About five minutes later water was still pouring out of me, I yelled out to my husband, who by the way was only about twenty feet away, multiple times with no reply. So I pulled a towel up around me diaper-style and again waddled right back into the bedroom.
I flipped the light on and my husband let out a "hey, tun that thing off" groan. "Babe, I think my water broke," I said. He mumbled something that made absolutely no sense and went back to sleep. "Caleb! My water broke!" At this point he had become an alive human again and jumped out of bed in a flash, freaking out might I add.
"We have to go to the hospital, what do we need, I'll go start the car, did you remember to," he rambled as he attempted to find clothes to put on.
I walked briskly to the laundry room where I had a stash of post pregnancy pads waiting for my return. I put on one of these frighteningly huge pads thinking it could hold in all the amniotic fluid until we got to the hospital. Ha. How young and naive I was.
Caleb threw the pre-packed hospital bags that had been waiting by our door for five weeks in the trunk, laid down a towel on the front seat for me and we were on our way.
I wasn't really in a whole lot of pain on the way to the hospital, but I was extremely quiet the whole way there. Which, if you were to ask anyone who knows me, that's pretty strange. I'm not really sure why, but I wasn't in the mood to talk and I wasn't tired either. I guess I was just mentally preparing and focusing on how this thing was gonna go down.
Of course Caleb was already freaking out, so my silence didn't help at all. He asked me if I was okay about 12,000 times on the way to the hospital.
We pulled into the dimly lit parking lot at the women's center of Texas Health hospital in Denton, the normally busy town seemed sleepy and almost dream like. Caleb dropped me off by the door and I waddled in.
I remember telling the lady at the front desk that my water broke and her asking me if I was sure. "No, I'm not sure, I normally just pee for two hours involuntarly without being able to stop. And yes this is coke that I spilled all over my pants," I thought. I know she was just doing her job but somehow life can be funnier and less funny just because you're in labor.
I filled out paperwork and then we got put in a little room with two beds and waited for a nurse to come check to see if my water had really broken. That whole day was a waiting game. Waiting for the nurse to come back. Waiting for family to arrive. Waiting to see how bad the pain would get. Waiting for my son to get here.
When the nurse walked in she audibly laughed and muttered, "Yepp, your water broke." I forgot to write down her name but I love that woman. At a time when I was so nervous about the birthing process she was there to calm and guide me.
Caleb and I sat in that little-bitty room just starring at each other making ridiculous faces. This was it, we were about to be parents. It was baby time.
Soon we were moved into a much larger and comfier (as comfy as a hospital room gets) room where we stayed until late into the night. The thing I hated the most about the hospital was how outdated the decor and wallpaper trim around the walls was. It was very 90's in fact it was probably very hip and in style when I was born in 1991. Two decades worth of newborns probably came into the world with this decor as there first scene.
We set up a season of Friends to play in the background, you know the season where Rachel is having Emma and everyone DOESN'T propose to her. I have seen every episode of friends at least five times and it always played in the background when I did homework or studied because I could tune it in and out. It provided much needed laughter during my beginning contractions.
I remember going into the hospital thinking, I'm not not going to get an epidural, but I think I'll hold off as long as possible. About three hours into contractions the nurse came in and informed me that if I wanted one I should get one now because the man with the goods would be unavailable for a while.
By that point I was hurting pretty bad, Friends had drifted to the background, I was laying on my side and praying every few minutes through each contraction. I love God and talk to him all the time but I'm the sort of person that I get on a roller coaster and all the way to the top I'm praying for me and everyone else on that metal death contraption. So during labor me and God, we were real connected.
I requested the epidural and my mom showed up just as I was going to get it. I'm not gonna lie, the process of getting ready and having it injected was almost more scary than pushing. I closed my eyes really tight and held onto my husband's hand with one hand and clenched a blanket in the other and repeated the name of Jesus over and over in my head. Yes, it seems ridiculous now but hey, you try it.
Oh epidurals how I love thee. I'm all for completely natural childbirth a bunch of my really close friends did it, but man that made my day so much better. Contractions went from uncontrollable pain to they kinda hurt but, a manageable hurt.
The rest of the day up until time to push has just swirled into one big memory of waiting, family members arriving, Joey down on one knee, nurses in and out, that awful wallpaper, praying, and waiting.
I dilated really quickly until I got to about an 8 and then it took FOREVER. Finally, at around 8:30pm I reached 10 centimeters! WOO-HOO, and about freaking time. I was tired, and a little hungry, and just still really really pregnant.
When the nurse came in and told me I could start pushing whenever I was ready, I really just wanted to hug her. You know if I could get out of the bed by myself, and if I didn't have a baby in my pelvis, and if this darn epidural wasn't keeping me from moving.
Believe me, I was ready. My mom and Caleb stayed in the room, and three nurses surrounded my lower region. Two of them placed my legs on the stirrup thingies and one played catcher (just kidding, sorta.) Caleb stood to my right holding my hand and my mom stayed up top at first but slowly wandered down to get in on the action.
I know my mom has seen my vagina before, but I was still weirded out about her being in the room at first. But by the time pushing came around I had absolutely no sense of decency left. Boobs hanging out, stretch marks seen, everyone and their nurse checking my vagina, yep it was all gone. So mom, by that point, was free to roam where ever the wind took her.
I was focused. on. getting. that. baby. out.
For an eternity, or about forty-five minutes, I was pushing for thirty seconds and resting for ten. Face red, mom says purple, not a single sound escaping, all energy going to pushing a giant baby out of my pelvis. The nurses kept telling me to push like I needed to poop. Sorry if thats to much information, but come on it's a birth story. What did you expect? Anyways the poop pushing was NOT working. So I followed my instincts and pushed from the very top of my stomach and immediately baby started crowning.
Always follow your instincts. Don't waste as much time and energy as I did.
Finally at 9:20 p.m. my son, Liam Wesley Rogers, sprawled his way into the world. As soon as he could he threw his arms up in victory. Good going Liam, that little victory dance made me tear a little. But it's okay because you were beautiful.
They put him on my bare chest and I just laid there, attempting to catch my breath, looking at this sweet baby who hadn't cried since they put him there. I kid you not, he only briefly cried upon arrival. Like less than two minutes. Caleb nervously cut the cord.
I immediately introduced him to nursing, and he nursed a little but mostly wanted to look around at everything in the room. After all, he had only been looking at the inside of my uterus for nine months.
He weighed 9 lbs 10 oz and was 21 3/4 in long. He was huge.
Eventually I let my husband hold him, and then my mom. Everyone cried.
The nurses did their thing and then I let other family members slowly make their way into our room to see him.
He was all swaddled, fed, happy and very awake. Just about everyone got to hold him that night.
I stole him back and just cuddled my new baby for quite a while. Then we changed rooms while they took him away for his first bath.
We didn't have him circumcised, but that is a different story in itself.
Moving. After. Birth. UGH, it's awful. I was so sore and in pain. Just getting into bed was horrible. I'm pretty sure the recovery from giving birth was actually worse than the birthing itself. At least for me.
While staying at the hospital, I got very little sleep. Baby would cry, nurses would come, I'd have to pee, people would visit, etc. So my memories of the first few days are pretty fuzzy and filled with warm thoughts of holding my small swaddled baby and on the other hand, feeling like I was dying.
Finally we got to go home on monday night. That was terrifying and amazing at the same time. It was really late. Dark outside, no traffic late. I sat in the back with sweet Liam the whole way home. He slept and I held his little hand, just in case. Caleb drove so slow, all the way there on our hour long trek home.
Once we got home and got everything unloaded, the baby woke up and cried. I fed him, we attempted to re-swaddle him the way the talented nurses did, and worked our butts off to get him back to sleep.
And we were parents, just like that.
All through out my pregnancy I was terrified that I would go into labor, shrug it off as Braxton Hicks, and not make it to the hospital (an hour from our house) in time to not have the baby at home or in the car. So I had been praying that my water would break so that I would have a sure sign that it was time to go to the hospital.
At 5:30 am on January 4th, 2014, my giant prego self woke up for the millionth time that night thinking "yay, I have to pee… again." Did my awkward roll out of bed and waddled into the bathroom. Just as I sat down my water broke. And I mean it broke. I was like, "wow, this is the world's longest pee." About five minutes later water was still pouring out of me, I yelled out to my husband, who by the way was only about twenty feet away, multiple times with no reply. So I pulled a towel up around me diaper-style and again waddled right back into the bedroom.
I flipped the light on and my husband let out a "hey, tun that thing off" groan. "Babe, I think my water broke," I said. He mumbled something that made absolutely no sense and went back to sleep. "Caleb! My water broke!" At this point he had become an alive human again and jumped out of bed in a flash, freaking out might I add.
"We have to go to the hospital, what do we need, I'll go start the car, did you remember to," he rambled as he attempted to find clothes to put on.
I walked briskly to the laundry room where I had a stash of post pregnancy pads waiting for my return. I put on one of these frighteningly huge pads thinking it could hold in all the amniotic fluid until we got to the hospital. Ha. How young and naive I was.
Caleb threw the pre-packed hospital bags that had been waiting by our door for five weeks in the trunk, laid down a towel on the front seat for me and we were on our way.
I wasn't really in a whole lot of pain on the way to the hospital, but I was extremely quiet the whole way there. Which, if you were to ask anyone who knows me, that's pretty strange. I'm not really sure why, but I wasn't in the mood to talk and I wasn't tired either. I guess I was just mentally preparing and focusing on how this thing was gonna go down.
Of course Caleb was already freaking out, so my silence didn't help at all. He asked me if I was okay about 12,000 times on the way to the hospital.
We pulled into the dimly lit parking lot at the women's center of Texas Health hospital in Denton, the normally busy town seemed sleepy and almost dream like. Caleb dropped me off by the door and I waddled in.
I remember telling the lady at the front desk that my water broke and her asking me if I was sure. "No, I'm not sure, I normally just pee for two hours involuntarly without being able to stop. And yes this is coke that I spilled all over my pants," I thought. I know she was just doing her job but somehow life can be funnier and less funny just because you're in labor.
I filled out paperwork and then we got put in a little room with two beds and waited for a nurse to come check to see if my water had really broken. That whole day was a waiting game. Waiting for the nurse to come back. Waiting for family to arrive. Waiting to see how bad the pain would get. Waiting for my son to get here.
When the nurse walked in she audibly laughed and muttered, "Yepp, your water broke." I forgot to write down her name but I love that woman. At a time when I was so nervous about the birthing process she was there to calm and guide me.
Caleb and I sat in that little-bitty room just starring at each other making ridiculous faces. This was it, we were about to be parents. It was baby time.
Soon we were moved into a much larger and comfier (as comfy as a hospital room gets) room where we stayed until late into the night. The thing I hated the most about the hospital was how outdated the decor and wallpaper trim around the walls was. It was very 90's in fact it was probably very hip and in style when I was born in 1991. Two decades worth of newborns probably came into the world with this decor as there first scene.
We set up a season of Friends to play in the background, you know the season where Rachel is having Emma and everyone DOESN'T propose to her. I have seen every episode of friends at least five times and it always played in the background when I did homework or studied because I could tune it in and out. It provided much needed laughter during my beginning contractions.
I remember going into the hospital thinking, I'm not not going to get an epidural, but I think I'll hold off as long as possible. About three hours into contractions the nurse came in and informed me that if I wanted one I should get one now because the man with the goods would be unavailable for a while.
By that point I was hurting pretty bad, Friends had drifted to the background, I was laying on my side and praying every few minutes through each contraction. I love God and talk to him all the time but I'm the sort of person that I get on a roller coaster and all the way to the top I'm praying for me and everyone else on that metal death contraption. So during labor me and God, we were real connected.
I requested the epidural and my mom showed up just as I was going to get it. I'm not gonna lie, the process of getting ready and having it injected was almost more scary than pushing. I closed my eyes really tight and held onto my husband's hand with one hand and clenched a blanket in the other and repeated the name of Jesus over and over in my head. Yes, it seems ridiculous now but hey, you try it.
Oh epidurals how I love thee. I'm all for completely natural childbirth a bunch of my really close friends did it, but man that made my day so much better. Contractions went from uncontrollable pain to they kinda hurt but, a manageable hurt.
The rest of the day up until time to push has just swirled into one big memory of waiting, family members arriving, Joey down on one knee, nurses in and out, that awful wallpaper, praying, and waiting.
I dilated really quickly until I got to about an 8 and then it took FOREVER. Finally, at around 8:30pm I reached 10 centimeters! WOO-HOO, and about freaking time. I was tired, and a little hungry, and just still really really pregnant.
When the nurse came in and told me I could start pushing whenever I was ready, I really just wanted to hug her. You know if I could get out of the bed by myself, and if I didn't have a baby in my pelvis, and if this darn epidural wasn't keeping me from moving.
Believe me, I was ready. My mom and Caleb stayed in the room, and three nurses surrounded my lower region. Two of them placed my legs on the stirrup thingies and one played catcher (just kidding, sorta.) Caleb stood to my right holding my hand and my mom stayed up top at first but slowly wandered down to get in on the action.
I know my mom has seen my vagina before, but I was still weirded out about her being in the room at first. But by the time pushing came around I had absolutely no sense of decency left. Boobs hanging out, stretch marks seen, everyone and their nurse checking my vagina, yep it was all gone. So mom, by that point, was free to roam where ever the wind took her.
I was focused. on. getting. that. baby. out.
For an eternity, or about forty-five minutes, I was pushing for thirty seconds and resting for ten. Face red, mom says purple, not a single sound escaping, all energy going to pushing a giant baby out of my pelvis. The nurses kept telling me to push like I needed to poop. Sorry if thats to much information, but come on it's a birth story. What did you expect? Anyways the poop pushing was NOT working. So I followed my instincts and pushed from the very top of my stomach and immediately baby started crowning.
Always follow your instincts. Don't waste as much time and energy as I did.
Finally at 9:20 p.m. my son, Liam Wesley Rogers, sprawled his way into the world. As soon as he could he threw his arms up in victory. Good going Liam, that little victory dance made me tear a little. But it's okay because you were beautiful.
They put him on my bare chest and I just laid there, attempting to catch my breath, looking at this sweet baby who hadn't cried since they put him there. I kid you not, he only briefly cried upon arrival. Like less than two minutes. Caleb nervously cut the cord.
I immediately introduced him to nursing, and he nursed a little but mostly wanted to look around at everything in the room. After all, he had only been looking at the inside of my uterus for nine months.
He weighed 9 lbs 10 oz and was 21 3/4 in long. He was huge.
Eventually I let my husband hold him, and then my mom. Everyone cried.
The nurses did their thing and then I let other family members slowly make their way into our room to see him.
He was all swaddled, fed, happy and very awake. Just about everyone got to hold him that night.
I stole him back and just cuddled my new baby for quite a while. Then we changed rooms while they took him away for his first bath.
We didn't have him circumcised, but that is a different story in itself.
Moving. After. Birth. UGH, it's awful. I was so sore and in pain. Just getting into bed was horrible. I'm pretty sure the recovery from giving birth was actually worse than the birthing itself. At least for me.
While staying at the hospital, I got very little sleep. Baby would cry, nurses would come, I'd have to pee, people would visit, etc. So my memories of the first few days are pretty fuzzy and filled with warm thoughts of holding my small swaddled baby and on the other hand, feeling like I was dying.
Finally we got to go home on monday night. That was terrifying and amazing at the same time. It was really late. Dark outside, no traffic late. I sat in the back with sweet Liam the whole way home. He slept and I held his little hand, just in case. Caleb drove so slow, all the way there on our hour long trek home.
Once we got home and got everything unloaded, the baby woke up and cried. I fed him, we attempted to re-swaddle him the way the talented nurses did, and worked our butts off to get him back to sleep.
And we were parents, just like that.
Comments
Post a Comment
Whatcha think about that?